I Told You I Don't Care
by Dimitri A
Summary: Ron had life figured. But Harry and Herm being married or Percy and Draco as members of the Order never factored in. At least not until he finds himself working with them. Not to mention falling for a certain blond prat. (RD, OP)
1. When it Will End in Misery

I Told You I Don't Care

I don't own anything you see used here. Life is sad and confusing that way.

Author: Dimitri Aidan

Rating: Eventual R, PG-13 at the moment.

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairings: Percy/Oliver and Ron/Draco are the main pairings. Harry/Hermione and Ginny/Colin, as well as others, are also present

Genre: Slash, Romance, Angst, Action/Adventure.

Summery: Ron had life figured. But Harry and Herm being married and Percy and Draco as members of the Order didn't figure in, until he finds himself working with them…not to mention falling for a certain blond.

Notes: Just feeding my Percy and Ron addiction. I have a thing for redheads. And I love Draco and Oliver with Ron and Percy, so I had to toss them in with a pinch of slash and bake at 400 degrees. This is the end result. I make no promises about my baking skills though…

This is equal parts R/D and P/O, I'd like to think, in spite of the summery.

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Chapter One

When it will end in misery

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It wasn't that Ron was upset, or even jealous or something stupid like that…he just felt a little bit left out, really. They had always been the trio yet…they couldn't be a trio in this. They had laws against that sort of thing actually…

"Do you, Harry James Potter, take this woman, Hermione Katherine Granger, to be your lawfully bound bride?" The man, one of the deputy Ministers of Wizarding Contracts, droned.

Harry, who looked rather smart in his pressed black tuxedo, was beaming brightly. Green eyes sparkled with more life than Ron had seen in his friend's eyes for a very long time. Harry was barely twenty-five, but his eyes were old and often tired, more so than Ron wanted to admit at times. He still held the image of his best friend in Hogwarts, full of life and seeking adventure, though it usually found him first, willing to take any risk…

But, nonetheless, Harry looked rather handsome, Ron would give him that.

Next to Hermione they looked the perfect couple. She stood an inch above Harry, but only because of her shoes. Without them, they were the exact same height. Her hair had been straightened and threaded with flowers, daisies if Ron was forced to admit to knowing such things, which matched the design of her delicate cream-colored dress.

She had told them both but had looked at Ron while speaking when she took it out of the cedar chest in her parents home, that it had been the dress her mother wore, and her grandmother before her, and even her great-grandmother before her. Her Great-great-grandmother had made it for her eldest daughter's wedding and it'd been passed down ever sense.

Hermione had blushed faintly when she whispered she hoped to one day see her own daughter in it before smiling faintly. Ron was sure she had never looked more beautiful in that moment, thinking of a future that may or may not actually happen, and holding onto that dress like it was the lifeline to that far away possibility.

He was pretty sure Harry would agree. Sure, she looked nice now, but that moment…had been something special. Or maybe it'd just been special to him, or them, because it was the moment where he finally let go of his best friends. Let go of that childhood crush on Harry, because who couldn't have loved Harry during their Hogwarts days, and his slightly more adult love of Hermione, and accepted that this was really going to happen.

They were really going to get married.

"I do."

He sighed, fidgeting with the sleeve of his suit. Best Man. Ron Weasley, who harbored feelings for the bride and the groom for nearly a decade, stood beside Harry, as his sister stood beside Hermione, and listened to the vows that literally caused him pain.

Sure, he'd let go, but that didn't make it hurt less.

He should have seen this though. He knew that at one time Harry had returned his feelings, a long time ago, but Ron had never done anything. He hadn't wanted to hurt Hermione. And Hermione too, had felt the tug of attraction for Ron, but once again he hadn't acted. He couldn't hurt Harry.

But, thankfully for them, he was a bit more expendable.

Who cared if he was hurt?

He glanced out into the crowd that had gathered in the backyard of his childhood home. It was done up very nice, with flowers and tall trellis type things, and candles to be lit after sunset. Tables were arranged and…it was all very beautiful.

They deserved it, he supposed, to have a wonderful moment to remember.

Oliver Wood, his partner of the last three years, offered him a sympathetic smile though Ron could see him twisting the ring they both wore around his finger nervously. He didn't really want to be here, weddings made him dreadfully uncomfortable. That made sense to Ron, since the last they had attended had been Penelope Clearwater to Marcus Flint and that had been very…strained and uncomfortable event, to say the very least of the matter.

Neither cared for Marcus, Oliver had never cared for Penelope, and Ron couldn't look at her without thinking of someone else who he really didn't want to be thinking of assuming he could help it and apparently he could not.

They'd only gone out of respect as they had been invited and everything, but later in the quiet of their flat they'd been forced to admit that they'd just as soon stayed home and slept their Saturday away.

He'd almost missed Hermione's 'I Do' he was so caught up in his thoughts but he couldn't have missed the kiss they shared. One could literally feel the magic the two of them generated just by being near to each other and in love.

The first time Ron had seen the spark between them he'd nearly died. It was an old legend of sorts; when a person found the one person they were truly meant to be with their entire lives and they shared a kiss, it would be visible to all around them. Ron had always believed it, because his parents had it.

He glanced at them and saw them holding hands and the slight glow their wedding rings had taken on. He'd thought it normal growing up, but realized later on it meant his parents were made for each other. Ron had to admit he liked the idea of his parents being Soul Mates. Other kids parents grew apart and divorced but his were forever. There was literally no one else in the world who could do for them what they did for each other.

For all the teasing he'd endured on his family's account just knowing that his parents were truly happy with one another made it worth it.

He didn't enjoy it so much where Harry and Hermione were concerned though. They generated lots of sparks and a bright blue light when they kissed. Mum said it was because they were young and at the height of their power and when time wore on the light would fade to a near overlooked glow.

Ron sighed and twisted his ring around his finger, then blinked and peered at it closely. The letters carved around the outside of the ring were starting to light up, one by one. He gave it five minutes before he had to make a run for it.

Great.

Oliver was standing up, as were the rest of the guests, but Oliver slowly made his way into the house. Ron wouldn't have it so easy and that damn smug Scot bastard knew he wouldn't.

Sometimes he loathed Oliver.

"Now, Ron wasn't that lovely?" Melissa who was Bill's wife cooed. She was nice woman and had gained a fair amount of weight due to the twins she was carrying. (Apparently they ran in the family.) She'd been rather plain, in Ron's view, but the fact she was quick witted and fit in so well with the Weasley family (Which included Harry, Hermione, Oliver, and Colin by default) had more than made up for that.

It took a special person to marry into their family and survive.

"I suppose." He looked at her warily and noted that Rebecca, Charlie's fiancée of the past five years, Ginny, his mum, and Hermione were somehow splitting away from all the fuss to head over to him.

He decided he didn't like this at all.

Four Minutes and counting.

"Are we to expect to see you exchanging vows anytime soon?"

He pinched the bridge of his nose. Did this conversation never end? "No."

"Why not?" Ginny asked arching an eyebrow at him. He glared at her.

"Because I don't want to get married. It's one of the few upsides of liking men I'm not expected to do these kinds of things." Ron sighed.

His mother frowned. "You know that just isn't true. Not here anyway. Your father and I would very much like to see Oliver make an honest man of you."

"Mum…I assure you, mine and Oliver's relationship," Such as it was… "Is as honest as it needs to be. Now please, stop being so meddlesome. Can't you see you've already run him off so he doesn't have to hear it from Bill and Charlie again?"

They all turned to look and Ron made his getaway ignoring the cries at him to come back. He had no problems with girls, as he found he liked them almost as he liked men, but he couldn't help but be reminded of a group of hens.

Three Minutes.

He found Harry being swarmed by well wishers and looking a little dazed. Probably wondering where his new wife had hurried off to. Ron grabbed him by the arm and tugged him away from the crowd, laughingly promising to return him in a moment.

"Hey, Ron, thanks-"

"I've gotta go." Ron interrupted. "But as always I love you both and I'm really happy for you, sorry I have to run like this, and don't let anyone convince you I should be marrying Oliver." With that he patted Harry's shoulder and turned to leave, only to be caught in a surprisingly strong grip.

"Ron, you can't just go. You're my best man. You have to…I don't know, make a speech and stuff." Ron turned and winced at the look of pure concern Harry was giving him. "Is everything okay with you? You've been…quiet and kind of hard to talk to…not to mention hard to reach. Ever since you and Oliver moved in together you're always disappearing for weeks at a time."

Ron smiled sardonically. "Well, Harry, he is on the Quidditch Team and as it turns out, though the endorsements are smashing, Chess Master of the World isn't a very demanding title so I do travel with him."

He was such a liar. But a very good and practiced liar. It was rather awe inspiring in his opinion since once he couldn't have lied his way out of a paper bag.

"Are you sure that's it? You two aren't in any trouble?"

Two Minutes.

"No, Harry, we're being very good and proper gentlemen considering the circumstances."

"Then why do you have to go so soon?" Harry looked genuinely hurt and Ron wasn't surprised. He knew that they had wanted this day, their wedding, to be perfect and normal and go off without a hitch. Ron just wasn't working with them, and he was very sorry about it.

He sighed, frowning. "Because I can't stay."

He looked at Harry intently and saw those green eyes searching him, trying to figure out what secrets he was keeping, before his friend nodded and let him go.

"I understand I think."

"Thanks." And he smiled, knowing full well Harry didn't know the half of it. But that was for the better in the long run, why plague him with a bunch of details he didn't need to, and really shouldn't have to, know about?

Ron was a very different person than what he used to be.

One Minute.

Ron walked away from his best friend and into the house. He ran upstairs, into his old room, and shut the door behind him. Oliver was stretched out on his bed, chin pillowed on his arms thoughtfully. He glanced up; deep brown eyes a touch on the sad side.

"You okay?"

"No worse than at the engagement party." Ron said, knowing full well his answer wasn't an answer at all. He leaned against the wall, watching his ring and counting backwards from ten as the last symbol slowly filled with golden light.

Then he felt it the familiar and expected tug right behind his belly button. What seemed to be every color in the spectrum blurred before his eyes before he was deposited, rather unceremoniously, onto his bum. The place was one Ron had come to know well over the years.

A small hotel room in Cork, above a pub that, in Ron's honest opinion, served some of the best beer in Europe. It wasn't anything overly fancy, red carpet that was worn in certain places, cherry wood furniture that was probably older than Ron, but hadn't lost any of its original charm, and a king sized bed up against the far wall.

He sighed. And now they just had to wait.


	2. Find My Way Back Again

I Told You I Don't Care

I don't own anything you see used here. Life is sad and confusing that way.

Author: Dimitri Aidan

Rating: R to NC-17

Fandom: Harry Potter

Pairings: Percy/Oliver and Ron/Draco are the main pairings. Harry/Hermione and Ginny/Colin, as well as others, are also present

Genre: Slash, Romance, Angst, Action/Adventure.

Summery: Ron had life figured. But Harry and Herm being married and Percy and Draco as members of the Order didn't figure in, until he finds himself working with them…not to mention falling for a certain blond.

Recap: Where we just left off Ron and his 'partner' Oliver had been whisked way to a hotel room. This of course happened after Hermione became Mrs. Harry Potter, thus breaking Ron's poor ickle heart. Oh, yes, and you were left to ponder the possible connotations of 'partner'.

Notes: Ugh. Such an overachiever. No more updates until next week…

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Chapter Two

Find my way back again

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Oliver flopped onto the bed and reached for the phone on the side table. "I think I'm going to get something to eat. Interested?"

"As long as it doesn't involved whipped cream." Ron murmured. Oliver chuckled, and a smile crossed his lips. Ron couldn't help but smile at the memory as well.

"I did that once. And can you really blame me? I was trying to go for romantic."

"Yes. It was embarrassing. The look on Mum's face…I'll never be able to forget it." Ron shook his head. "We still can't have cream in our hot chocolate without the twins snickering."

"I'm sorry, okay? A million times over." He didn't really look sorry Ron couldn't help but notice. In fact he looked downright amused. Ron arched an eyebrow and Oliver sighed then gestured him over. "Come on, you might as well take a load off while we're here. It's not every day we get to sit around in a hotel and do nothing."

"Every other day." Ron muttered, sitting down next to his partner.

"You're so pessimistic." Oliver said as if it were something tragic. "Sometimes I don't know what to do with you."

"Nothing." Ron said dully. Oliver's hand touched the small of his back, in a gesture nothing short of sincere and soothing.

"I'm sorry about this. I know it was a bad day for you."

Ron opened his mouth to reply, but the door opened and he suddenly was kissing Oliver (or was Oliver kissing him?) and thinking with a note of amusement that Oliver was really a nice kisser. Such a shame it had to go to waste on him.

"Oh my god."

Ron pulled away from Oliver and turned to the source of the oddly familiar voice. His mouth literally fell open. "Percy? What in the hell are you doing here?"

Percy was staring at him, blue eyes wide and shocked. "I was told to come here. I'd ask you the same, only it looks pretty clear that you were snogging Oliver Wood." Percy seemed to have a hard time getting past that. "Which is just wrong. Sick and wrong."

Percy did look genuinely distressed, which made Ron feel a little better about it. He hadn't spoken to his older brother since his fifth year, when Percy had gone from just annoying to being a total ponce, and he really didn't think now was the time to be changing that.

"I never thought you'd be so desperate as to go after the likes of Weasel." A painfully familiar drawl accompanied those words and Ron was willing to swear this was by far the worst day of his life. And that was saying a lot, because he'd had some pretty horrible days over the years.

Percy glared over his shoulder. "Draco, if you find being civil such a chore, perhaps you'd like to go back downstairs."

Draco sighed. He was leaning against the door and looked annoyed. "Fine Percy. For your piece of mind, I won't insult your git of a brother."

"Well, I can't speak for Mr. Weasley, but I certainly appreciate the gesture. Do go into the room will you, and give this old man a chance to sit down."

Draco and Percy moved out of the way quickly and Dumbledore walked in. In spite of his words, he didn't look any older than he had in Ron's first year. He sat at the chair before the desk and let out a small sigh, before looking around at the assembled people.

Ron couldn't help but follow his lead.

Oliver, in Ron's opinion, looked much the same as he had years ago. Still tall and sturdy looking, muscular in all of the right places. His nose was crooked, as it'd been broken two years ago in a nasty broomstick collision while playing Quidditch and…about half a dozen other times since. He also had a myriad of scars from various injuries. His hair was dark blond and cut close to his head, to avoid it getting in his way, and his eyes the same warm chocolate brown they'd always been. He was, as far as Ron was concerned, rather handsome.

Percy however had clearly changed. His glasses, which had always looked if they should belong to an old man, were now oval, silver frames, which complemented his blue eyes nicely. Percy and Ron had been the only ones to inherit their father's blue eyes. He looked even thinner than he'd once been, which would have made their mother mad if she could see it, and maybe a little paler as well. His hair had grown out and fanned against his cheeks.

Strangest of all was the way he was dressed. A pair of jeans with one of the knees ripped away, boots that weren't shined to perfection, and a simple white button-down, un-tucked. It was all…very un-Percy.

Draco…well, he looked like his usual annoyingly…blond ferret self.

…Fine, maybe that wasn't exactly true.

His hair was longer, maybe to his shoulders when it wasn't pulled back with a band as it was now. His eyes, which were a blue-gray color, were partly hidden behind feathery wisps of hair. He was thin and the shortest one in the room (But considering that Ron, Percy, and Oliver all topped six-foot, that wasn't a bad thing.), but seemed to have the same commanding air he'd always had. He was wearing all black; a pair of jeans, boots, and a black t-shirt that Ron couldn't help but noticed was…very tight. He could see the outline of the blond's nipples.

Not that he was looking, exactly. It was just hard not to notice was all.

Ron however, hadn't changed. He didn't like change much and other than 'growing into himself' as his mother liked to put it he looked the same as he always did. Red hair, freckles, and pale skin.

"I'm glad the four of you could make it to this impromptu meeting."

"Not that you left us much choice." Ron muttered, folding his leg underneath him. Oliver nudged him with his foot, silently telling him to shut his mouth. Ron just glowered at the older man.

"Yes, I must apologize for taking you away from Harry and Hermione's wedding as I was loathe to miss the occasion myself. I do hope it was a lovely ceremony nonetheless."

"Don't apologize. Mum was just starting her 'when are you and Oliver going to get married' crusade, so it was for the best."

Dumbledore smiled kindly. "Don't worry Ron, one day I'm sure things will work out."

"Eh." Ron sighed. Perhaps he should just marry Oliver and leave it at that.

"Not to interrupt this lovely moment we're having here," Malfoy said. "But why are we here?"

"That's a good question." Oliver said, sitting up some. "Though really I was thinking more along the lines of 'why are those two here'."

"You four are here because you are the only remaining members of my personal circle." There was a moment in which the shock could be felt. "I understand this may be a bit of a surprise and I feel it only right that each of you explain what it is you do for me, before we continue."

A moment passed and Percy cleared his throat. "I spy on the Ministry. It's corrupt and this corruption goes very deep, much deeper than anyone realized. And Fudge's idiocy didn't help the situation much." He smiled wryly. "When the Minister of Magic, Sandusky, took over he swore there would be no war and that was the first sign that things were not right. The fact that there have been numerous Muggle and Muggle Born deaths just makes it ever more obvious.

"Any and all information that filters through the Ministry that could be of use to explain this I take and copy for the Order to see."

Ron was totally speechless and he was pretty sure his mouth was hanging open. As long as he'd known Percy he'd been little more than a self-absorbed, self-serving prat. To hear that he'd actually done something for someone else was shocking, to say the least of it.

And he kind of felt…guilty because all he could think was 'I wonder what he's getting out of this?'

"I spy on non-Death Eater connections for Dumbledore." Malfoy said, tone one of boredom. "I've been doing it since my fourth year at Hogwarts. I used to listen to my fellow Slytherins about things their parents had informed them of: Attacks, meetings, and things of that nature. Now I do much the same thing. Though not a Death Eater people think me loyal to the cause because of my father and mother and like to tell me anything, so long as it appears I'm willing to listen."

Ron wondered idly if the world was ending around him or if hell had frozen over. Somehow this seemed akin to the apocalypse in his mind. Almost as if he sensed it, Oliver leaned over and pinched Ron's arm sharply. He yelped and glared while rubbing his arm.

Oliver just smiled, before looking over at Percy and Malfoy. "Ron and I watch members of the Order for any signs that may have defected. If they show signs we look into it, probably using information from you two. And if they have left our side we…" Oliver trailed off, looking at Ron for help.

"We fix the situation." Ron said, frowning as realization began to seep in. "Other members of the Order are never allowed to see us or know who we are until we're ordered to take care of them."

Ron couldn't help but remember a joke Harry had told once, unknowingly referring to him and Oliver as 'The Cleanup Crew'. They came in quietly once everyone had left the 'office' and took out the trash, never to be seen or heard from again. It was a dirty job that no one else would want and most looked down upon, as it seemed to have a certain underhanded quality about, but all agreed it was needed in order to protect the secrets the Order had.

Oliver frowned as well and tilted his head off to the side. Ron knew that look because he'd seen it many times before. He feared that look. When left to his own devices Oliver was a pretty carefree guy but when a mission was given to them all signs of Oliver dropped away. There was nothing but a cold and calculating mask.

One might have thought it but Oliver wasn't the muscle of their little duo. He was the planner, the thinker, the one who figured out the quickest and cleanest way to carry out their jobs. All this time as a Quidditch strategist, and a first class one at that, had given him a keen mind.

Ron was usually the one to carry out the actual killing. It wasn't that he too couldn't come up with a smashing plan of attack, because being Chess Master meant that not only could he but that it was his job to do such. It was simply that he was a less assuming and intimidating figure. He was Ron Weasley, the nicest most good-natured guy in the world.

Until he killed you.

"Well bugger that." Draco sneered. "I certainly don't intend to be taken out by the likes of you." Ron twitched and his fingers flexed as that old burning itch to smack the shit out of Malfoy returned with a vengeance. They hadn't seen each other since graduation but there was certainly the same animosity.

Him Ron might not mind 'fixing'.

Percy looked at Draco as if wondering the best way to tell him to quit being an idiot was then looked at Dumbledore. "What Draco means is, we haven't done anything. We certainly haven't defected-"

"Of course not!" Dumbledore laughed loudly. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to have that implied, that couldn't be further from the truth. You four are the most trustworthy members of my inner circle, and because of that I have a task that I would only entrust to you."

"Flattery will get you everywhere." Oliver said, grinning. "What do you need us to do? Me and Ron are in, no questions." Ron nodded his agreement.

"I'll help, of course." Percy said. Malfoy was silent for a moment and Percy looked at him eyebrow arching in a manner very familiar to Ron. It meant Percy was impatient and wanted you to agree with him and do what he'd said at that very moment.

He'd seen a lot of it growing up.

"Oh fine I'm in. Quit looking at me like that."

Percy smiled which was a surprise in and of itself. Percy hadn't been much for smiling, as he hadn't had a sense of humor growing up, so to see him as anything less than dour well it was a surprise. And for Malfoy to be the cause of that smile…

Ron looked outside to make sure the sky wasn't falling.

Nope, everything looked to be in order.

"I was sure I could count on the four of you. I can't go into too many details just yet, for security's sake."

"But we are security." Oliver snarked.

"Quite." Dumbledore smiled. "And now that you are relieved of your duties things are at a much greater risk of being exposed ahead of time. Without you to relay on I'm afraid certain…leaks may grow, instead of being stopped.

"That aside Oliver I'm afraid you must put your Quidditch career on hold. Percy you'll need to leave the Ministry. Ron and Draco you will need to begin to distance yourselves from your families and friends."

Ron let out a barely audible groan. He knew exactly what was going to happen. He'd start withdrawing, Harry would play martyr and blame himself, his parents would worry themselves half to death, and when the mission was over he'd be subject to all sorts of coddling and apologies and it'd all be a pain in the ass.

The things he did for the sake of war.

"I'll contact you soon with the details. In the meantime I believe that you should begin to get used to each others presence and become acquainted."

Ron frowned. He knew Percy well, they had lived together for over fifteen years after all, and he didn't want to know anything about more about Malfoy than he already did. Judging by the look on Oliver's face he felt very much the same.

Percy and Malfoy didn't look any more pleased than they did and that was a small comfort to Ron. At least they'd all be miserable together.

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Fanny: Well, since you asked so nicely…

Uilani: And again, since you also asked nicely.

Mechante: Yes, lots of guys were crying when Bill got hitched…it was a sad sad day, lol. I'm glad you like the intrigue and my baking skills. I do try… and yes, you are more than welcome to the bowl and spoon if you can find it amongst all the other 'baking stuff' around here. It's crowded…

Cherre: Aww, you flatter me so. I love it.

Princess of Mirrors: Oliver and Ron aren't actually…together, really. It's…umm…ask again next chapter. I might explain it then. I never know until I write it where exactly I'm headed. It's irksome sometimes. And what going-ons that are going on shall be explained…eventually. Dumbledore was being really cryptic when I asked.

Didon: The romance shall be in the future. Assuming that none of the assembled cast hauls and kills…Malfoy. But, barring that occurrence, everything should be fine.

Davida: Yep, has everything to do with those mentioned in the summery, as you saw already…

Sallie: Oh you know…soon…two days later…next week. It's all the same to me. My time perception sucks.

Ron: Actually Oliver was invited to Marcus' wedding and Ron went along like a good little boyfriend. And he had to leave, for the old coot was a calling. No rest for the wicked and all that.


	3. Would You Find It In Your Heart

I Told You I Don't Care

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Chapter Three

Would You Find it In Your Heart

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Dumbledore left and, after telling Percy and Draco where they lived, Oliver and Ron Apparated back to their London flat. It wasn't anything fancy, but it had two bedrooms so hopefully no fights would break out . With nary a word to each other the two men began to get things in order for their latest endeavor.

Ron began to cancel chess matches, claiming family issues. Oliver wrote a letter to his coach as well as the head of the European Quidditch League explaining why he had to take the rest of the season off. True it wasn't much of an explanation beyond 'family problems' but it was the only one he could give.

Odds were their sponsors and bosses, respectively, would consult with each other and realize they were having relationship problems and let it be. While their relationship, sham that it was, wasn't a public thing those who they regularly associated with were aware of it.

Sometimes Ron was almost sad it was nothing but a big lie. Oliver was a fantastic bloke and any guy would be lucky to have him. Handsome, funny, fun to be with, sweet, patient and that was just off the top of Ron's head. And great with his lips.

But, after three years of killing people together, any spark that may have been there was smothered by mutual guilt, shame, and the fact they were so used to lying they doubted they could have a truthful relationship.

"Have you ever wondered what we're going to do when all this fighting is done?" Oliver asked as he hauled his things into Ron's bedroom. Ron looked up from his calendar and cocked his head to the side just so. Oliver knew him and his movements so well Ron wouldn't have to speak a single word to communicate.

"I mean…when we have to tell everyone 'surprise, it's a huge joke? We've never so much as shagged let alone were in love?'" An arched eyebrow here. "Those few times aside I mean. Not that I want to tell your brothers about those…they're right scary blokes you know."

"I know."

The Weasley's were old-fashioned in many ways. Ron had been raised on the ideal of 'no sex before marriage'. While his family sort of accepted that he and Oliver were most likely shagging and had no plans to marry, finding out that they had shagged without a relationship period was going to make someone lose a few vital limbs.

Someone being Oliver and, as he valued all of his various limbs and vital organs, he didn't fancy such a confrontation.

"I suppose I never thought about it." Ron said slowly. "I guess I figured we'd kind of die before the war was over and never have to worry about it."

Oliver rolled his eyes and went back to his moving. Ron watched him for a moment then glanced at is calendar again. It was a magical item so the moment his scheduled opponents removed him from their plans the matches vanished from the calendar. He was already cleared for the next three months so he had nothing to worry about. He shut the book and stood up.

Oliver was putting some of his books onto his bookshelf. The older man spared him a glance as he flopped onto his bed.

"I suppose if we don't die we'll make up a story about our breakup and never mention the fact that we've killed more people than most Death Eaters dare to dream of. You'll end up the first openly gay Quidditch star and snag a guy who understands why you're so passionate and obsessive about what you do. He'll be a dreamer so he can balance out all of the logic ridden plays and moves in that brain of yours and maybe be willing toconsider that big family you crave so much."

Oliver smiled slightly. They knew each other well after all of this time and Ron knew without asking that he was right about what Oliver wanted so far.

"And I suppose I'll finally get over Harry and Hermione and find a nice person who understands why I love fairy stories and sparks when I kiss them. And then I'll get married and make my mum happy."

Oliver made a show of clapping to show his approval and Ron chuckled before taking in the mess Oliver had made of his room. He rolled his eyes. It wasn't that he was a compulsive neat freak or anything, he just liked to be able to see his floor on occasion. He didn't think that was a horrible thing or an off the wall request.

But he also understood it wasn't that Oliver was a slob or anything; he was just very sentimental and liked to keep anything that seemed to be symbolic. Unfortunately for Ron that seemed to be everything.

"You're a pig Oliver."

"Oink."

Ron made a face then tilted his head off to the side again. "So what do you think of this Ol? Percy and Malfoy…working for the Order. Probably our main sources of information for all this time."

"I think its totally and completely buggered." Oliver deadpanned. "But what isn't these days? This is life, you know? Why try and figure it out anymore?"

Ron nodded slowly and laid back to stare up at the rather bland cream colored ceiling. He'd wanted to paint this room once, when they first moved in, but now it seemed he never had the time or the energy to do it. He was barely into his twenties and already he was possessed by a weariness that seeped right into his bones.

Oliver was right. He'd spent a lot of time wondering why. Why him, why Oliver, why them, together, for this job and these missions and he always came up just as empty as he started. It just was the way it was and there was nothing anyone, least of all the two of them, could ever do to change that.

And thus the pointlessness of wondering about the future, in his honest opinion. Things would go the way they would with or without their say-so and any plans or dreams they were foolish enough to build would be dashed.

It happened time and time again and Ron was entirely too…tired to believe that things would ever change. He and Oliver would die in this strange little life of theirs and no one would ever realize that there was more to them then a big dumb jock and a loud and slightly anti-social chess player who happened to be sleeping together.

And of course that was the point in their perfectly crafted little scam wasn't it? To draw everyone in to a surface image and not risk being found out or have anyone suspect that they may just be more than what they appear to be. Let Harry and Hermione be the beautiful faces associated with this fight and never let the likes of them be seen, with dirt under their nails and bags under their eyes.

They were destined to be forgotten. Or perhaps, much worse, never to be known at all.

He felt the bed dip and turned to look at Oliver who stretched out next to him. They laid next to each other for sometime, a companionable silence filling the apartment. And Ron let himself think back to how he'd gotten tangled up in all of this subterfuge to begin with. (For reasons he didn't want to get into Ron really enjoyed the word subterfuge. He'd looked it up a few years back and while he never used it out loud he liked to think it. It made him feel a bit smarter than most people suspected he was.)

"Ronald."

He blinked at the man addressing him, opened his mouth but only a squeak came out. The man actually smirked at him as he slid into the chair across from him with a sort of grace Ron wouldn't have thought he could possess. Mainly because he was supposed to be dead.

"I…you. Dead."

"Quite." He gestured for a waitress and quietly ordered a cup of tea. She nodded and walked off. "You've been well it seems. I understand you beat Price for the European championship last month."

Ron nodded and tried to push aside the absurdity of small talk with a dead man. After all, stranger things had happened hadn't they? The man nodded as well and leaned forward.

"I'll make this simple for you. Dumbledore wants you to use your new station as Chess Master to help the order." Ron's heart clenched for a moment and he bit his bottom lip. This was, really, what he'd always wanted right? A chance to fight besides Harry and make the world good again and put down the bad guys?

Right?

"I…how?"

"Your station comes with the reasonability of traveling the country, and occasionally the world, for your matches. That ability would be useful to us when it comes time to check on our less…trusted members."

"You want me to spy on the order?"

"We want to you identify and rectify any leaks or betrayers."

"Rectify." He repeated softly. The word caused chills to run up his spin and he wrapped his arms around himself as if trying to warm up. He wasn't really cold though. "You would want me to…I mean. You know what I mean."

"I have a glimmer of an idea." He agreed before holding up a hand to order him silent. He took his tea from the waitress, who took a moment to flash Ron a smile before sauntering off with her hips swaying in a manner that would have been intriguing under different circumstances, then turned back to him. "I didn't say it was an easy or pleasant task. Or one you can ever discuss or garner fame from because you can never tell anyone. But it is an important one that not just anyone can do. Even your friend Potter was passed up."

And that struck a cord in him and judging by the man's face he knew it. He knew Ron's weakness, his one horrible vice, that thing that sometimes gnawed away at his mind and made him wonder what kind of friend he truly was.

Deep inside he wanted to be better than Harry. More known, more worthy, more effective, the hero, the one that got the girl (or guy), the one that everyone knew by name… He craved to show Harry up just once.

He'd just been played, manipulated, and he found that he really didn't care that much.

"Okay."

Ron snorted and turned over, curling up against Oliver. Had he really ever been that stupid? It seemed so long ago when he, a twenty year old kid who'd just gotten his first **real** taste of fame, agreed to become a killer. So he could be better than Harry.

He hadn't realized until much later that it was because he was worse than Harry he'd been chosen. Because his soul was darker, because his rage and anger burned brighter and ran much deeper, because he was expendable and his innocence meant nothing to anyone. Harry needed to be fresh faced and still believe in the goodness of people so, when this was all over, he could stand up and help rebuild things without the taint of blood on him.

But not him. He could drown in blood, choke on the scent and the taste and die drenched in it, and that was okay because when it was over he wasn't really needed.

He could do this because he understood that sometimes things really were black and white and Harry loved those shades of gray. Sometimes you couldn't forgive and forget, you couldn't spare a person's life because it was the right thing to do. Some people just had to die. Some people were just evil and some were just good.

Fuck the motivation behind it because life wasn't a stupid two-dimensional novel and what a person was thinking or feeling or needed meant nothing when the lives of many were at risk. The why was meaningless in the grand scheme of things and Ron was oh-so content to never know what made these people he'd known forever change.

He was pretty sure he didn't want to know because the 'why' may just drive him out of his skull and he thinks he rather needed to be inside of his skull for the time being and all impending insanity will have to be put on hold for the time being.

Oliver's hand curled in his hair. "You think too much Ron."

And of course Oliver had to be the same otherwise he wouldn't be here. Not in this apartment, not in this bed, not holding him and keeping him from flying off of the edge of a very high cliff. He never imagined he'd be dependent upon another but at least it was Oliver, who understood his **why** and had many whys of his own.

"Never about anything important." Never about anything he could, or would, change. And so life went on.

XXXXXXXXXXXXX

"Have I mentioned how much I object to sharing a flat with your idiot brother and his boyfriend for any length of time, greater good be damned?"

"Once or twice. In the past five minutes." Percy drawled in a perfect imitation of the smaller man. If Draco was at all amused he certainly didn't show it. He just sat back in his chair with a huff and crossed his legs at the ankle. "I think you're overreacting just slightly."

"Yeah, well, you're an idiot." Draco muttered. "Your brother and I have hated each other from the very moment we encountered each other and I see no reason to go messing with a good arrangement." Percy just smiled and the blond sulked, looking petulant. "You can't very well want to go either. I seem to recall you fancying Oliver Wood for the past decade or so. It can't be pleasing that he's boffing-"

"A childhood crush is hardly a reason to begrudge my brother happiness." Percy interrupted. Draco eyed him for a moment then laughed.

"You want to ring his scrawny little neck don't you?"

"Yes." Percy said as he fell onto the couch across from the blond. "I most certainly do. I spent most of my teenage life living in fear of my parents finding out I fancied men, even created an elaborate lie of a life with Penny and then Ron not only gets the guy I always wanted but our parents want them to get married. It's infuriating."

He took a deep breath and put a hand over his eyes. "And still not a reason to get in the way of Ron being happy or try to make the next few weeks, or months, impossible."

"Bugger that, it's an excellent reason. I say you call the coot-"

"You really shouldn't call him that."

"And tell him we've changed our mind. We simply can't work under these conditions." Draco finished, pointedly ignoring the redhead. Or at least he tried to ignore him. It was hard to do when Percy was smirking at him like that. "What?"

"Nothing." His face slipped back into its usual faintly amused mask. "I sent in my letter of resignation. Sandusky was very upset to lose his 'number one guy'."

Draco's lips quirked. "It's so nice to be loved."

"Even if it is by a sociopath." Percy sighed dramatically then peered around the small apartment almost sadly. This had been his place since he'd moved out of his parents home, nearly eight year ago, and he had to admit he didn't like the idea of leaving it. He had been really proud of himself for being able to save up the money, on his own, to get his own place and pay the rent every month.

Percy was far from wealthy in any sense of the word but what he made with the Ministry had been more than enough for someone who was used to hand-me-downs and second hand things. And now…well, he didn't have a job or his apartment would be inhabited by someone else by the beginning of the month.

It was quite the blow to his pride.

He said as much to Draco when the younger man asked why he was sulking like that, but only got a slightly bewildered blink it return. He shook his head, smiling wryly.

"Right, I forgot I'm speaking to a man who still lives with his mother."

Draco sniffed. "Not of my own choice. My mother wants to keep me close is all."

"Right."

"It's not my fault my mum loves me."

Percy's eyebrow quirked. "Love is it? And here I thought she was just over-possessive and wanted to make sure you never got away from her."

"That's what I said." Draco said, arching an eyebrow. "Weren't you listening?"

Percy laughed lightly before leaning back in his chair and closing his eyes. Draco really was one of the most infuriating people he'd ever had the pleasure of encountering. Their friendship was an unlikely one, founded out of the need to check all of the information coming to the Order for accuracy. They got together once every few days and 'cross referenced' their material. What checked out when to Dumbledore and what didn't was put on the back burner.

Because of that Percy had a small glimmer of an idea to what was coming next. Lucius Malfoy intended to get out of Azkaban, where he'd been since Draco and Ron's fifth year, and challenge Voldemort for power. The problem, in Percy's mind at least, was why they cared if they were against Lord Voldemort or Lucius.

But who was he to question Dumbledore's motives. He'd been following the man since Sandusky had taken the position of Minister and now was hardly the time to back out.

Still, Draco was right. He wasn't eager to work with his brother and his brother's lover. It wasn't a matter of lingering feelings for Oliver, Percy liked to think himself beyond such petty things, but the fact Percy had become very accustomed to be alone, aside from his occasional meetings with Draco or Dumbledore. He wasn't sure how he would handle being close to family, who'd he avoided for the better part of a decade, or so close to people who were…together.

It had been a very, very, long time since Percy had been close to anyone in a more than friendly manner. So long, in fact, that he couldn't rightly remember when it had been.

It was quite depressing. Especially when his only companion with Draco, who was something of a serial manwhore. Not that Percy was judging or anything…well. Maybe a little bit. He didn't understand how Draco could be so casual about those he took to his bed.

Then again Draco didn't understand how he could be so uptight so perhaps they were even in that respect. He cracked open his eyes and looked over at the blond who was staring out of the window, eyes unguarded for a rare moment. Percy smiled.

He did like Draco. He was like a younger brother, only less annoying that Ron or the Twins had ever been when he'd lived at him. He had a personality that didn't make Percy wish he'd never been born at least.

"Stop staring at me Weasley."

He smiled again. "Sorry."

Draco glanced over at him. "Don't be strange. I'll need you to balance out your brother's stupidity."

"Stop that. He's a pain but he is my brother."

Draco arched an eyebrow loftily. "There are ways to take care of that you know."

Percy groaned. He could feel a headache coming on already.

00000000000000000

Don't worry about the 'dead' guy, he'll be back later. Feel free to take guesses at who it is though.

Didon: Ron be a killer. Though he doesn't like to be called a killer, he's sensitive about that sort of thing. Hopefully this answered some of your questions.

Princess: It was too cute to last wasn't it? Only not really so cute, when you consider things… Eh. This chapter didn't have a lot of action, but it explained relationship type…things.

Mechante: I do love Percy. He reminds me of my boyfriend only slightly…more so. He's mellowed a bit, but I suspect that's Draco's influence. My brain is a strange and twisted place, full of…boxing rings. Fluffy stories tend to get knocked around, between me and you. It's sad. Hope you enjoyed the batter.

Cherre: Moi, an ego? Surely you jest. :P Ron and Ollie do have a strange cool job, depending on how you view it.

Ms Bluesky: Ah, I can assure you this is plot driven. I like writing fluffy things, but I love a plot to occupy my mind with even more.

Lady: Your wish be my command. I try to go for creative things, or at least new spins on old ideas, and its always nice that people see that.


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